Monday 9 January 2012

The Dream.

I’m walking on a dark lane. There’s just enough light to see my way, and I look up to see a pale moon that seems to be watching me. Everything is still. The trees stand stark and inscrutable, and the features in the landscape form a snaking, meaningless mass that offers no prospect of rest. I want to rest, and yet I don’t. My legs ache, my breathing is shallow, and I can feel my heart palpitating rapidly inside my chest. But some sense tells me I mustn’t rest because, if I do, the darkness will deepen and leave me blind. I know I mustn’t rest until I reach one of the light places I can see in the distance. One is to my left, one to my right, and one straight ahead. They flash on and off; first there is one, then two, then three, then none, then two... and so it goes on.

I reach a house standing mysteriously alone in the dark wilderness. It glows slightly – a pale white – as though it should be brighter but the batteries are running low. All the windows are lighted, and indeterminate shapes move back and forth behind them. I look for a door that I can knock on, but there is none. Many windows, but no door. And so I walk on. The remaining lights continue to flash on and off, and they shift position so I get confused. Which way should I walk? I don’t know. Just keep walking. I keep walking, and wake up.

As far as I know, there was no dream. I made it up; it’s what storytellers do.

But there might have been.

2 comments:

Maria Sondule said...

This reminds me of The Great Gatsby where Gastby goes out on the dock to watch the flashing light. Are you searching for something?

JJ said...

Damn right I'm searching for something. Wouldn't see much point in breathing if I weren't.